


Last Year, This Time

by semperama



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - Star Trek [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-12 10:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16871374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semperama/pseuds/semperama
Summary: She pushes her hair behind her ear and stares him down, trying to channel as much defiance as she can. Which might not be very much. “Maybe I’m trying to avoid a repeat of last year.”





	Last Year, This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PsiCygni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsiCygni/gifts).



> This was written for a prompt from @psicygni, who wanted Kirk/Uhura first kiss at midnight.

“Where are you running off to?”

Nyota’s step falters, and she rolls her eyes toward the ceiling, gritting her teeth to hold back a sigh. She was sure she’d managed to slip away unnoticed, but apparently not even a raucous party and McCoy’s generous whiskey pours can curb Kirk’s ability to show up when he is least wanted.

“Some of us have work in the morning, Captain,” she says without turning around. Of course, Kirk is not to be deterred, and she lets out the sigh she was holding when she hears his footsteps coming closer. She shuts her eyes, and when she opens them again, he is standing in front of her, blocking her path of escape.

“We all have work in the morning.” He raises his eyebrows at her. “Hell, some of us have work later tonight.”

“Well, if other people want to be irresponsible, that isn’t my problem.”

She goes to sidestep him, but he moves to block her again, reaching across her path and flattening his hand against the wall of the corridor. It wouldn’t be hard to duck under his arm, but she doesn’t trust him not to turn it into some kind of inappropriate wrestling match. It’s all too easy to imagine his hands clutching her waist, his stupid grin, his laugh. No, better to stay where she is and avoid all that.

“It’s five minutes to midnight, Nyota,” he says, tilting his head to the side to study her. He looks so much like a confused puppy this way. It’s more endearing than it should be on a grown man, one she daily trusts with her life.

She pushes her hair behind her ear and stares him down, trying to channel as much defiance as she can. Which might not be very much. “Maybe I’m trying to avoid a repeat of last year.”

If he had any shame at all, he’d flinch, but of course he doesn’t. He grins instead, and she has to look away. They are too close, and this is too familiar, and this time—this time she may not have the willpower to put a stop to it.

Last year’s party had been one for the history books. Scotty played bartender, which in hindsight was probably dangerous, and Chekov had picked the music, which made all of them feel young. Nyota had danced until her feet hurt, then she took off her shoes and kept right on dancing. At one point she had ended up in the arms of McCoy, of all people, who had some surprising moves and no qualms about putting his hands low on her waist. He’s having trouble looking her in the eye even now, a year later.

It wasn’t until almost midnight that she found herself leaning against the wall next to Kirk, peeling her hair off her sweaty back and fanning herself with the opposite hand. Kirk had been dancing too, judging by the rise and fall of his chest and the moisture gleaming on his forehead and the back of his neck, but she didn’t remember seeing him in the crowd.

“I’m beat,” he said, leaning his head against the wall and looking down at her. “You want another drink?”

“No, I’m fine.” She was starting to sober up, but that was for the best. Maybe she’d avoid the hangover everyone else would surely be nursing in the morning.

“You seen Spock?”

Nyota wrinkled her nose and gestured to a dark corner of the room with one hand. “Over there making out with your CMO, I think.”

Kirk rolled his eyes. “And it isn’t even midnight yet.”

“You’re just jealous,” she said, grinning at him—and that had been her mistake. That was the moment his attention narrowed in on her, his eyes dropping to her mouth, his hand twitching at his side. If she had felt too warm before, she was sweltering now, and though she wanted to move, to increase the distance between them, she was rooted to the spot.

“No, not jealous,” he said, so low she couldn’t hear him over the music. So low she had to read his lips.

Someone started counting down. More voices joined. Kirk seemed to find his courage and moved his hand to her hip.

The crew was yelling Happy New Year! when he leaned in to kiss her.

Nyota turned her face away at the last moment and fled.

And yes, she is fleeing now too—or she meant to, but of course Kirk never makes things easy. She blames him for the fact that she has so often since that night felt the shape of his palm on her waist like a brand. She has seen him sweaty and gasping on away missions and has kept her distance for fear he would smell the same and she would think too hard about how he might taste if she put her mouth to the hollow of his neck. 

And right now, with him standing in front of her, she can’t remember a single reason why she shouldn’t want him. He isn’t the cocky boy she met in a bar in Iowa any longer, and even if he was…

Even if he was.

“You seemed like you had fun last year,” Kirk says. He lets his hand slide down off the wall, but in doing so, he shifts a little closer to her, so there are mere inches between them.

“You know what I mean, Kirk.”

And yet she doesn’t stop him when he puts a hand to her waist this time. He must be touching the same spot, because something throbs low in her stomach as if in recognition, and her skin prickles under his fingertips, even through the fabric of her dress. Unbidden, her hand goes to his bicep and she digs in with her nails, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to keep him there.

 _Ten, nine…_ She hears the crew chant from down the hall. _Eight, seven…_

Kirk’s fingers find the side of her jaw, tipping her chin up. “Can I?” he asks. His expression is more vulnerable than she’s ever seen it. It hurts her heart. “You can say no. No questions asked.”

_Four, three, two…_

In spite of herself, she nods, shakily. His eyes light up.

_One…_

His hand is in her hair. He tastes like whiskey, like salt-sweat, exactly like she knew he would.

Happy New Year!

She falls back against the wall and pulls him close and kisses him until long after the distant cheers fade away.


End file.
